You Love it When
by Cherie-24-Addict
Summary: A series of my random musings/drabbles/oneshots concerning TnM: Tony Almeida and Michelle Dessler .  Chapter Five is up, and Carrie's managed to torment Michelle, her husband, and CTU for a full year.  Mayhem and slight fluff ensue as Michelle watches on.
1. Mornings With Him Make You Feel Giddy

**You Love it When…Mornings With Him Make You Feel Giddy**

On any ordinary day, Michelle Dessler would have been up at the crack of dawn. On any ordinary day, the federal analyst-slash-agent-slash-manager would have been sitting at her kitchen counter, sipping a cup of coffee as she read the morning newspaper and checked her email for any important updates from work. On any ordinary day, Michelle wouldn't be in a vulnerable position.

But this was no ordinary day. This was _the morning after._

Yes, _the_ morning after. After only a few weeks of dating, she had finally slept with her boyfriend in the figurative sense of the word. Last night had been everything she'd dreamed about at night – and more. The sex had been mind-blowing. _Tony_ was mind-blowing. A part of her couldn't believe that they'd come so far in the little time that had passed since the day of the bomb at CTU. She was still in shock that Tony seemed as mesmerized by her as she was by him.

Of course, Michelle was doing all this girly, analytical thinking with her eyes shut. Today was not a day that she wanted to get out of bed early for. All she wanted to do was to lie in Tony's arms, white skin against bronze, and feel his warmth and the beat of his heart. Why would she ever want to decrypt satellite images and run after leads when she could just be here with him?

Beside her, she could feel her partner shifting in bed. With him being such a light sleeper (from the times he'd slept over before), there was no doubt in her mind that he was waking up. She felt his lips brush her shoulder and smiled, feeling giddy.

"Hey," he whispered with a grin. "How're ya feeling?"

She kissed his forehead. "Wonderful," she breathed. "Tired…but wonderful nonetheless."

"Last night a workout for you?" he joked, tickling her stomach. "Huh? Too much, sweetheart?" The endearment came out naturally. They both noticed it and grinned, simply caught up in the moment. Suddenly, Tony pulled Michelle up on her side and planted soft kisses at the base of her throat. Michelle bit back a moan trying to escape her mouth, to no avail.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked.

She mock-glared and kissed him hard on the mouth. "Shut up, Almeida," she said. "That could be misconstrued as sexual harassment."

"You were singing a different tune when I…"

"Okay, I get it," she said sharply as she pressed her finger to his mouth. "Be quiet, now."

Situated against his chest, she could feel him move as he laughed silently. "You are something else, Michelle," he said, brushing one loose curl out of many behind her ear.

_So are you, Tony_, she thought to herself. _So are you._

"Hey," he whispered to her after a few moments of silence. "Look at me." Puzzled, she did as he asked, turning so that she could see his face. He lifted up her chin gently and brought his lips down on hers with the softest touch. "I love you, Michelle."

Michelle felt a lump in her throat. Without thinking for a second, she knew what her response would be to him. It felt almost like a reflex, even though it had never been said to him.

"I love you, too, sweetheart." She kissed him, again and again, with a growing urgency, and he moved his body to cover hers as they once again became consumed in the warmth of each other's bodies.

Of course, nothing ruined making out in the morning like the sweet sound of the buzzer on an alarm clock.

"Damn it," they whispered at the same time. Michelle sat up, her frizzy hair sticking out at every angle possible.

"Sweetheart, you might wanna take a shower," Tony suggested, "unless you want the whole office knowing just how much fun you had last night…"

"It takes two to tango, Tony," she mock-growled. "Besides, this is my apartment. I'm making you breakfast."

All he did in response was smirk. "Okay. Today's the day we burn down Michelle Dessler's apartment," he deadpanned.

She stuck out her tongue at him, earning a throaty chuckle.

"_I'll_ make breakfast," he promised. "Don't worry about it."

"Tony…" It was her apartment; she should at least pretend that she was playing hostess, since Tony pretty much cooked all the time. Apparently, he wasn't as enamored with her takeout diet as she was. Not that she complained about having the most delicious meals made daily by the person who understood her the most. Still…

"Honey, I want to," he whispered, another nickname rolling off his tongue like it was nothing.

After a moment of silence, she relented. "Fine." She rolled out of bed lethargically and grabbed at her thin bathrobe, starting to work it around her body. "So I guess you're not joining me then?" she asked strategically.

Half an hour later, as a thin sheen of sweat covered her body and her brain turned into a pile of mush, all Michelle could think of was that she'd just had the best shower of her life.

**A/N: Press that little "Review" button, please. You have no idea how much it makes my day. For the next three weeks, I'm not going to be able to post (I'll be at camp without a personal computer), but I'll be able to check my email. So send me a PM, a review, a suggestion, constructive criticism... and I'll keep on writing, making sure to have great stuff for you when I get back. :)**


	2. She Tries to Cook for You

July 24, 2010

_A/N: Yep, I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack! I just came back from camp, and I already miss my friends like crazy. Are you out there, Bostgirl?_

_I missed my readers (you guys!), too! And I definitely wrote stuff while I was gone, so you guys get a treat._

_So here it is... the infamous "Michelle cooking" chapter. Enjoy, and review. Hopefully, you will not separate the two._

_I'll shut up now._

**You Love it When… She Tries to Cook for You**

Tony Almeida tapped his foot impatiently as the elevator slowly climbed up the wires. Fifteen floors to pass by and nothing to do. Well, there was one thing to do… and that was to think about the woman who was flipping him inside out and turning him upside down.

_Michelle._

Two weeks ago, the name had been nothing more than a quiet little fantasy. Of course, he hadn't dared go near her, since she could have easily broken his heart, something he wasn't willing to risk.

And now? Now, mornings and evenings weren't the same without her. He spent as much time as humanly possible with her, and he enjoyed every second of it, whether she was laughing up at him, mock-glaring with her trademark bottom-lip pout, or lying softly against his torso while watching a movie on the couch. Every little kiss, every little touch, sent a shiver up his spine. Michelle Dessler had been a blessing in disguise. No, more than that… she had become necessary for his happiness, possibly for his survival. Tony was wholeheartedly addicted to his Michelle.

Unfortunately, love – because that was, honestly, only a matter of time, if it hadn't consumed them already – couldn't quite conquer all. Not where the sporadic and all-too-often Division meetings were concerned. To put it simply, the damn things made him even more pissed off at the world than he was on a day-to-day basis. (_That_ was saying something.) He'd have much rather felt his blood rush through his veins as Michelle kissed his collarbone and the part of his chest that would normally have been covered by the two top buttons of his work shirts, holding her small frame tightly to his body, than pretend to listen to some boring lecture concerning new protocols that were being implemented by bureaucrats who enjoyed watching CTU get slowed down.

Still, he had to go, and though he wished he could play the girlfriend card, he knew it simply wasn't an option. It would kill Michelle – and himself, because any of her pain was his as well – if people thought she was getting her promotion to Chief of Staff because she was having a personal relationship with her boss. More than anything, they were determined to keep things professional.

That was why he was truly looking forward to a calm, stress-free evening with his curly-haired angel. No distractions, no aggravation in the workplace, no nuclear bombs threatening to destroy half of Los Angeles… Tony was simply getting the opportunity to spend some time with his best friend slash girlfriend slash possible soul mate. (Not that he'd ever say that last one out loud…)

As the door to the elevator opened and the government agent stepped out onto the sixteenth floor, he ordered himself to stop thinking about her for more than five seconds.

One. Two…

Nope. Couldn't do it. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. It was all too possible that he was falling way too fast for her, that he was going to get his heart broken again…

He knocked on the door to Michelle's apartment and ordered his mind to stop being so negative. This was _Michelle_ he was talking about, after all. Kind, considerate, strong Michelle, who would probably find fault with treason, murder, and unceremoniously breaking people's hearts.

A few seconds later, when Michelle hadn't come to the door, Tony knocked tree times. "Michelle? Sweetheart, I'm home."

Shit. What the hell was this, _I Love Lucy: Dysfunctional Government Agent Edition_? Tony sighed and hit the hammer of his fist against the wall. "Michelle?"

Two minutes of impatient tapping later, Tony fished the key that Michelle had given him for emergency purposes out of his pocket and jammed it into the lock. He turned it clumsily and nearly stumbled into the apartment. "Damn it," he mumbled as the smoke began to clog his throat. He dropped to the floor and yelled, "Michelle!".

He hacked out an agonizing cough, waiting, hoping, for an answer. The silence that followed terrified him. If something happened to Michelle… he would never be able to forgive himself. On all fours, he slumped to the ground and pulled himself toward the kitchen. As he worked his way closer, he saw a medium sized frame scurrying back and forth.

"Damn it!" she barked. "Where the _hell_ did I put that towel?" She continued to mutter expletives under her breath as she coughed and sputtered, fighting against the building column of smoke.

Tony couldn't bear the idea of Michelle getting hurt. He reached out, grabbed her forearm, and pulled her down to the floor.

"Tony?" she cough-gasped, kissing his face heatedly.

"Sweetheart," he said, cradling her soft body, "how the hell did this happen?"

As buckets of rain from the sprinklers above began to rain down on them, she panted, "Explain… later. Just… find the towel, and stop the fire."

Tony moved forward and felt around for a kitchen towel. How on earth did Michelle manage to find anything in this hurricane, this disaster?

"Got it!" he shouted as his fingers closed around a soft piece of fabric. He poured the remnants of a nearby water bottle onto it and subsequently threw the towel over what he'd estimated (and hoped) to be the source of the fire.

After a few seconds, the flames died down, and though smoke still remained in the air, the sprinklers had shut off. As he panted, taking big gulps of air, he felt a pair of skinny arms wrap themselves around his waist. He tilted up Michelle's face and kissed her lips, her cheeks, her eyelids, her forehead, the tip of her nose…he simply became lost in her, in everything she was. She rewrapped her arms around his neck, and he carried her like a child to the couch in the den, both of them still sopping wet.

They lay in each other's arms for some time, and then Tony raised his eyebrows, a question brewing in his eyes.

"Well," she said, flustered, "you were at Division… and I figured you'd be coming home later… and I thought that you might want something for dinner other than the usual takeout. Never thought I'd manage to burn chicken."

His jaw nearly dropped to the floor. Not sure whether he should be laughing or crying, he whispered softly, "You nearly killed yourself – and the rest of the complex – attempting to cook one of the easiest dishes in the world?"

She pouted halfheartedly and kissed his chest softly. "I _told_ you I was a horrible cook."

"Well, yeah, but that doesn't mean I should expect you to set your apartment on fire."

She glared at him, and though still in his arms, she turned to face away from him.

"Sweetheart," he whispered, his voice cracking, "do you have any idea how much it'd kill me if something happened to you?"

She turned back around to face him and lay her head on his shoulder, and as they locked eyes, Tony knew he could have proposed right then and there. After a few minutes of listening to the rhythm of each other's breathing, Michelle said, "I'll go order us some pizza," kissing him softly but deeply.

"Okay," he whispered, kissing her hair, as she climbed off him and started to look for a cordless phone.

"Well," Tony thought to himself. "Quiet night, huh?"

_A/N: So... whaddaya think? R/R, don't forget. There's a button right at the bottom... Your reviews really help me, including constructive criticism, so keep 'em coming!_


	3. He Calls You When You're Apart

**A/N: I'm going to apologize now for not uploading this sooner. I've been busy, but I've also been lazy and had writer's block, so there's not much of an excuse for my lack of updates. Anyway...here's another chapter. Thank you to everyone who's read and reviewed this, and keep up the good work. The more reviews I get, the better the chances of an update.**

July 31, 2010

…**He Calls You When You're Apart, Just to Hear Your Voice**

"Aren't days off supposed to be the best thing in the world?" Michelle wondered aloud as she curled up into a ball on the couch.

Apparently they weren't. Not anymore, at least. Now that she had Tony with her almost every minute, no w that she could rest her head on his chest for the sole purpose of hearing him breathe, now that she had his kisses (and his meals!) to look forward to instead of eating takeout alone on the couch, she hated being without him. Even if it _was_ for professional reasons.

Yes, it was true. Michelle Dessler had been given a day off from her almost ridiculously rigorous job… but Tony Almeida hadn't. She'd be spending one of her scant days off without the person who continuously made it all worthwhile. She sighed and brushed a few errant curls out of her face, not particularly in the mood to make a deal with The Devil, as her brother had so endearingly called her mane of hair. She was too lazy (and not clinically insane), after all, so she wasn't going to even bother with pulling her hair back into a bun. A laugh bubbled out of her throat as she imagined the look on Ryan Chappelle's face in the event that he ever saw her like this. The laughter soon subsided, though. She sighed and flipped on the TV.

Five episodes of _Bones_ later, Michelle was still watching the television mindlessly. She wasn't in the mood to deal with lunch. Come to think about it, she actually hadn't really thought about food that much today. Breakfast was usually pancakes or eggs and sausage, made by her very own personal chef. Often, Tony didn't get another chance to make a meal, so they made the most of the mornings. Today, Michelle had treated herself to half a handful of cereal; the usual breakfast before Tony had come into her life. And as for lunch? She knew her boyfriend wouldn't be particularly happy if he came home and discovered a half empty pizza box from the nearest takeout restaurant lying on the countertop.

_Ugggh._ She might as well just take a nap. Tony probably wouldn't be getting home until late, and like always, she planned on waiting up for him to come home before going to bed. She stretched out a zombie like arm and grabbed the blanket next to her, then fell sideways and collapsed on the couch.

She woke to the angelic sound of her cell phone ringing. Michelle groaned and rolled over. _Who the _hell _would call me in the middle of my day off…and more importantly, my _NAP_?_ Still, to her credit, she eventually sat up and answered her phone.

"Dessler," she growled.

"Sorry to wake you, sweetheart," a very familiar voice said in a soothing tone.

Her bad mood instantly evaporated. "How could you possibly have known that I was asleep?"

"You have that scratchy morning slash bordering on smoker voice that you always get after…"

"Okay, I get the point," she cut him off, daring him to continue.

"And there is the fact that I can read your mind," he said lightheartedly.

"Yes," she laughed, "you can."

They were comfortably silent for a few minutes, simply enjoying having the other person on the line with them.

"How was your day?"

"Huh?"

"Honey, when did you fall asleep? Hours ago?"

"Mmph!" she sniffed in protest.

"Apparently," Tony muttered. "By the way, I left some spaghetti for you in a pot on the stove. You're probably starving by now if you managed to miss out on lunch, which, knowing you, sweetheart, you definitely did."

"What?" she asked, confused. "How on earth did I miss that?"

"You're exhausted," he replied gently. "But I love you anyway."

She smiled a toothy grin that, if anyone but Tony had been in her presence, she would have immediately blushed a crimson red.

"And now you're smiling to yourself," he smirked.

"Am I really that predictable?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

They chuckled and each laid back on their respective couches.

"Did you have a reason for calling, honey?" she asked softly. "If you need help at CTU…"

"No, sweetheart, that's not it," he reassured her.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," he replied. "I just… I just really wanted to hear your voice. It's been kind of a rough day without you around to make it seem all worthwhile."

"Sweetheart," she breathed, "I… do you want me to stay on the line for a little? You, my dear, need a break."

"Sounds great. What do ya want to talk about?"

Wasting the better part of an hour, they talked about everything and anything until Tony's secretary buzzed in to alert him to an incoming call.

"I'll be home in a couple of hours," he said apologetically, knowing full well that two hours could quickly turn into a double shift.

"I'll be waiting," she said honestly.

Not for the first time, there was a pause.

"Sweetheart?" she whispered. "I love you."

"I love you so much, Michelle," he said quietly. "See you in a little bit?"

"Yeah," she smiled. "I'll try not to burn the house down."

"Bye, honey."

"Bye."

_Click._


	4. She Wants You There for the Big Stuff

**_A/N: I know, I know, I'm getting really bad about posting. But I promise I'm working on stuff. I'm just getting busier since school's starting up again. Here's a piece of honest-to-goodness TnM._**

**_I forgot to mention that the drabbles are all out of order. This is post-Day Four._**

**_Disclaimer: I don't own anything. But I REALLY wish I owned the Almeida family (or at least Tony.)_**

**She Wants You There for the Big Stuff**

Tony Almeida sat quietly on his bed, looking through the all-too-exciting world of business inventories. He was amazed that he'd been able to keep up with his wife when it came to the figures; turned out that Michelle had a head for business as well as a gift for managing people, manipulating computers, and toting a gun.

Actually, he was just amazed in general. Amazed that he and Michelle had been able to start over. Amazed that she still loved him. After everything he'd done to her over the past two years. Amazed that he was beginning to deserve wearing the gold band of metal on his right ring finger.

He took a moment to pause his work and stared at his unadorned hand. It was the one sign that truly showed how far he'd come, how much he'd moved on from everything that happened. It also proved how forgiving and steadfast his Michelle was. After all, the things he'd done to his wife had cast a shadow over her. And if he had to be completely honest, it was that one fact that killed him. It hurt to think that he had been completely responsible for her despair, never mind that fact that _she_ had been the one to leave _him_. He twisted the ring around on his finger, gently running his fingers over it. He kissed the metal and thanked God for having her back, then returned to his work.

After about an hour of incessant working, he heard the front door open. He walked out to greet Michelle, but as he wrapped her in his arms, he noticed that there was something much more fragile about her. Her usually bouncy curls laid flat. Her pale face was white and drawn; none of the usual rosiness showed in her cheeks. Her eyes still sparkled, but something seemed wrong.

"Chelle, are you sick?" he asked. "When the hell did this happen?"

She looked at him, still as pale as if she'd seen Nina Myers' ghost. "I've been feeling kinda weird the past few days, Tony," she said, frustrated, "you know that."

"I thought you were feeling better again."

"So di I," she mumbled, groaning. "I _hate_ being sick, _hate_ not having control over my own body."

"I know," he said gently, rubbing her back, one hand rotating in smooth circles and the other on her soft cheek. She sighed and leaned into Tony, and he kissed her forehead.

The moment was noticeably ruined, though, as Michelle's spine stiffened and her face turned green. She muttered a "Damn it," and clasped a hand over her mouth. Tony was quick to follow his wife to the nearest bathroom and sit down next to her just in time to watch her lunch empty in the toilet bowl as she prayed feverishly to the porcelain gods. As he had for the past five days, he massaged her shoulders as she panted and continued to retch. After a few minutes, she finally stopped, and Tony lay down with her on the tiles, listening to her rapid heartbeat, blocking out everything except for the fact that his Michelle was in pain.

"How are you doing?" he whispered aloud.

"Never been better, honey," she grimaced. "Can't you tell?" She shifted slightly and curled up into a fetal position.

He tilted her chin up so that he could look her straight in the eye. "I'm sorry that you have to feel like hell right now."

"Kind of ironic, isn't it?" she mused. "I get sick immediately upon returning from CVS."

"Did you at least manage to get anything you needed before you felt sick?"

She nodded numbly, frizzy curls bouncing. After appearing to hesitate for a moment (during which Tony couldn't for the life of him figure out why she was so tentative), she said, "I left the bag on the coffee table. Could you bring it into the bedroom for me? I'd get it myself, but…"

"…you really need to rest, Chelle," Tony said protectively. He sat up and lifted her into his arms, cradling her like a child. "Let me take care of it. That's what I'm here for."

"To be my flunky?" she asked innocently, smiling up at him.

"To help you with whatever you need," he corrected, elaborating at the end. "Because you are completely worth it."

"Oh, Almeida," she laughed, "you're still smooth, even in middle age."

He mock-scowled at her. "I'm not that old yet," he retorted. "And neither are you. We're both thirty-six, for God's sake. If you ask me, I'd like to hold off on the midlife crisis for at least ten years."

"If you haven't already gone through it," she mused as he placed her down on the bed, pulled the covers over her body, and kissed her forehead.

"I'll be right back," he promised.

"I'll be waiting, as usual," she said, rolling her eyes.

He walked to the living room and quickly grabbed the bag. When he pushed the plastic off and looked inside, he nearly dropped what he was holding. He twisted around the box as he tried to let the fact sink in. No matter what he did, he couldn't quite get his brain to wrap around such a lucky possibility.

He finally got it together as he entered the bedroom. "Michelle?" he said aloud. "Were you planning on telling me about this, or were you just going to do it and tell me in a month?" He took the incriminating piece of evidence and plopped it next to her.

Michelle took the box into her hands, looking at the words printed on the box: PREGNANCY TEST. "I was planning on telling you," she replied. "The nausea kind of got in the way, sweetheart."

Tony walked around to the other side of the bed and rolled next to his wife, taking her gingerly into his arms. He heard Michelle mumble something but couldn't quite make out the words.

"Come again?"

A sigh. "I want you to do this with me. You're my husband. And my best friend. I want you with me for everything, no matter the outcome. You coming?"

Tony couldn't believe it'd only been thirty seconds. Two and a half minutes to go, and her was getting so restless he might explode. Michelle sat on his lap, head lying on his shoulder, as they waited for the outcome together.

"One minute to go," he whispered into her hair. "How're ya doing?"

She looked up at him, eyes shining. "Fine," she said. "But honey, the suspense…"

"…is killing you," he finished. She nodded into his shoulder.

"I want this to be true," she whispered. "So, so much."

"I know, sweetheart," he said, kissing her lips sweetly. "So do I. But it isn't now or never. We still have a few years."

"I know that. But…"

Tony understood what she was saying completely. "I get it," he assured her. "So, when it beeps, what do ya wanna do?"

"We'll look at the same time," she said firmly. "Together. Tony, I told you before, whatever we do, we do together."

He nodded. After a couple of seconds, he said, "Sweetheart, no matter what, I will always love you, more than anything."

She leaned up and kissed him, again and again. He pulled her body to his, and as they broke apart for breath, they panted. At that very moment, they could hear the timer for the test beeping, shrill in their ears. Michelle stood up, fixing her hair and the shirt she was wearing. "You ready, sweetheart?" she asked as he followed her into the bathroom. They situated themselves around the stick, resisting the urge to look at it.

"As ready as I'll ever be," he replied, taking her hand in his though he was shaking. "One…"

"Two…"

"Three," they said unanimously. They peered over the counter at the test and looked at each other. Then, a wide grin broke over their faces, and Tony swept his wife and unborn child into his arms, kissing Michelle's hair, face, and belly. This was the sign he'd needed, the sign that they'd truly moved on from their past. Everything he wanted was right there with him, and he planned on keeping it that way.


	5. He Makes Your Life Less Uncomfortable

Author's Note: I'm goin to try and update this at least once, maybe twice a week. Thank you for being so patient.

This chapter assumes that even after a year of working with her, Tony's been unable to get rid of Carrie, and so she's been terrorizing Day 3's CTU employees, especially his wife. Will Tony finally stand up for Michelle? Will you laugh when you read how? We'll see. Leave a review to make me smile, I haven't gotten many of those in a while.

* * *

…**He Makes Your Life Less Uncomfortable**

From the view at the Chief of Staff's desk, Michelle Dessler, arguably the most exhausted woman on the planet, could see everything perfectly. Various people were getting started for the day. Chase Edmunds was quietly padding over to his locker to put some of his things away in case he got called out.

Adam Kaufman was arguing with Kim – Jack's daughter – about some elementary protocol that couldn't quite come to mind. (Michelle didn't have the energy to walk over, intervene in their petty little fight, and tell Adam that he was, in fact, wrong.)

Gael was managing Comms, operating with various agents to set up a protection detail for one of the more important members of the midterm elections, and in no way was to be disturbed (the Director would have something to say about that).

Up in Field Ops, Chloe O'Brian, Michelle's newest recruit, was staring at her computer with the usual pissed-slash-you-are-in-no-way-as-smart-or-obedient-as-me-so-don't-give-me-lip face. She typed frantically, never looking up at anything. Michelle sighed. That was Chloe for you, in a nutshell. As Jack Bauer came over, they began to argue animatedly, and Michelle turned away. Jack and her husband had never quite understood where she'd been coming from when she hired the mousy-looking analyst.

That left only one place left to observe… the Director's office. She swiveled around and looked through the clear paneling, and the interpersonal stress just melted away. Tony Almeida was looking through paperwork with an extremely bored look on his face. On anyone else, it would have been annoying; on Tony, it happened to be adorable. She picked up her cell phone and dialed speed number 1.

She smiled as Tony picked up. "Almeida."

"It's me," she said, and from where she was, she could see his entire face light up.

"What's up, sweetheart?" he asked.

"Everything's good down here on the floor for the most part. Kim and Adam aren't arguing…"

"…for the moment," he said shaking his head. "And Gael…"

"…is doing a wonderful job," she confirmed. "He refuses to divert his attention from it unless it's you or me interrupting him."

"Jack…"

"will have to go through us. They…"

"haven't really gotten used to each other, got it," he nodded. "And Chloe?"

Michelle lightly closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. "She does great work, Tony. I just can't figure out how to get her to stop arguing with Jack over protocol. I swear, one day…"

"she's going to give you a migraine."

"Honey, why do I feel like we've had this conversation before?"

"Because, sweetheart," he chuckled, leaning back in his chair, "we have. More than once."

Michelle winced. "I'm sorry."

"No, no problem, sweetheart. You know you can interrupt me with anything you need or want to talk about."

"But…"

"You're my wife, Michelle. If something is bothering you, I'm going to put that ahead of whatever protocol we're running."

For the first time that day, Michelle smiled a full smile. "Okay," she said softly. As Chloe started to look her way, she stiffened and sat up from her lounging position in her chair. Returning to business mode, she said, "Carrie's late, by the way. Again."

"You know, I'm really feeling the urge to fire her ass."

"Sweetheart, you've wanted to fire her ass since the minute she got here."

"No, that would be you. In my case, I've wanted to boot her back to wherever the hell she came from since the _second_ she got here. Division keeps butting in, though. Oh, by the way…"

"What?" Michelle asked.

"She's here," he said. "She'll be at your desk in six, five, four, three, two…"

"I'll call you back," Michelle said as calmly as she could, flipping her phone closed.

"Michelle, I'm sorry I'm late," Carrie said, a fake smile plastered across her face.

Michelle sighed. "I'm not the one you need to apologize for. Go talk to Tony about it. But I'm pretty sure we've given you a couple of warnings…"

"Save it, Michelle, you're not the one in charge."

Michelle stood up to her full height, 5'4 (5'7" if you included her heels), and instantly towered over a 5'2" Carrie. "Listen to me very carefully," she said in an uncharacteristically pissed fashion, venom lacing every word. "I am your superior, and Tony is busy, so while that continues, in case you weren't aware, _I am in charge of this floor._ Now, go up to the Director's office."

Carrie smirked. "Fine," she said, "I'll go up."

As the analyst from hell stalked away, Michelle instantly got that feeling, not for the first time, that much like a year ago, Carrie was going to tattle on her to her own husband. She quickly sent him a message over the system that CTU had installed.

* * *

_Carrie's coming up,_ she typed frantically. _She was late and circumvented my authority, again._

_Damn,_ he replied. _Sweetheart, I swear, I'm taking you out for an early lunch break._

Michelle almost smiled. _That would be great. By the way, I'm going to hack into the audiovisual feed in your office to see what happens._

She could see him silently laughing. _Michelle…_

_Don't laugh, Tony, _she pouted, her bottom lip sticking out. _And don't argue, she's walking up the stairs now._

Still chuckling, he nodded his head. _Got it. I'll delete the transcript of this conversation. Love you._

_Love you, too,_ she typed. Then, she quickly signed off and hacked into the bandwidth. It wasn't like there was there was anything else to do; other than Gael's setup of the next day's operation, which he happened to be in charge of, there was absolutely no reason to be there.

* * *

On her screen, the African-American woman walked into Tony's office.

"Carrie," he said, feigning surprise. "I wasn't aware you were here."

"I just got here a few minutes ago," she said calmly.

"Exactly. That's a problem," he said harshly. "Look, this is the third time in the last few weeks that you've been coming in to work late."

"Look, my mom's been having chemo…"

"You're lying," he said immediately. "You haven't seen your mother since you were ten." When she shot him a threatening look, he squinted at her. "_What?_ I look up the background investigations of all CTU employees."

She began to wring her hands, probably to keep herself from wringing Tony's neck, Michelle mused. "If this is something you and Michelle planned out when you were supposed to be working…"

"First of all, _Carrie,_" he seethed, "Michelle is my Chief of Staff as well as my wife. So yes, I will be talking to her regularly throughout the day, but you know as well as everyone else that we keep things professional and don't plan the demise of other analysts. You are late, and lying about it, and I don't trust that.

"Second, you've been _tormenting_ the hell out of Adam and Kim."

"Tony…"

"Not just them, either. Who do you think you've been purposely terrorizing ever since you got here? I'm not going to stand by while you distract my analysts, my agents, my second-in-command. My wife."

"Tony, you know I don't do that," she said with an almost flirty smile.

"Cut the crap, no one's watching," he said, scowling. Despite herself, Michelle let out a throaty chuckle, zooming in on Carrie's astonished face. "As of this moment, I'm relieving you of your duties. Clear your workplace and be out of the building in the next fifteen minutes, or I'll send security for you."

She placed her hands on her hips. "On what grounds?"

"Wavering professionalism," he said, "as well as harassing my team and annoying the _hell_ out of me. You may go now. We're done talking here."

"But…"

"Carrie."

She sulked as she stomped out of Tony's office and down the stairs as Michelle, slightly elated and completely shocked, stared at her computer. At that moment, Tony turned around and gave the camera a wink.

"Weren't expecting that, were you?" he said.

She typed, _How long have you been planning on doing that?_

After reading the question, he looked back up at the camera. "A while," he said. "Honey, everything I said to her I've wanted to say to her for months."

_The part about me being your wife?_

"Yes, that too," he said honestly. "Actually, I knew I'd eventually be proposing after that disastrous fire in your apartment."

_You decided you were going to marry me after I nearly killed myself trying to cook a simple dinner?_ she asked, laughing.

"Yes," he said seriously.

_Thank you, sweetheart,_ she typed. _Anything else you need?_

"Yeah, actually. Come help me on some of this paperwork.

_That an order?_

He chuckled. "Honey, what do you think?"

She took her cell phone out and called him. "I'll be up in a second."

"Okay."

"Tony…"

"I know. Love you, too," he whispered huskily. "Now come up here before Chappelle kills me."

She smiled, hung up, and immediately began to walk upstairs. Today had turned out much better than expected, thanks to Tony. For fear of sounding cheesy, he truly made everything worthwhile.

* * *

Unbeknownst to both Tony and Michelle, two hours later, while they were on their lunch break, Kim, Chase, Adam, Chloe, Gael, and Jack were situated around Kim's computer and silently laughing.

"Well," Kim said, "I have to say, that was very entertaining."

"You can't say she didn't deserve it," Chase agreed. "The look on Carrie's face was priceless."

"Tony definitely did the right thing," Adam said.

"The conversation he had with Michelle the entire time was actually really sweet," Chloe interjected.

_The hell? _Everyone shot her a confused look. "They're allowed to have a nice, married-couple moment every once in a while, I guess," she scowled.

Moving on, Gael said, "I do not feel sorry for her at all. And I applaud Michelle for hacking into the frequency, and Tony for letting her watch the show."

Everyone turned to the one person who hadn't spoken yet. "What do you think, Dad?" Kim asked her father.

He chuckled and shook his head. "The Almeidas should be back any minute. Get back to work, all of you." Everyone scurried back to their desks. "But between you and me," he whispered to his daughter with a small smile, "I wouldn't mind seeing that again."

* * *

A/N: The review button is starving and wants to know what you think, especially about the last half of the story! R&R, it's almost as good for the soul as chocolate!


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